


This is Halloween

by fukmylyf (orphan_account)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombies, Dumb pranks, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Gen, Ghosts, Gore, Halloweenstuck, Implied Sexual Content, Karkat and Nep r siblings, M/M, Multi, Skeletons, and lots of fucking gore, angel!John, demon!Karkat - Freeform, dumb shenanigans, halloween on the meteor, incubus!Karkat, lots of dead people tbh, lots of fucking, siren!Feferi, these shenanigans are crazy, vampire!Dave
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-24 06:47:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 8,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4909408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/fukmylyf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bunch of halloween ficlets that I'll be writing this month. Hoping to do one for every day, but we'll see how that goes! Basic description for each fic will be in the chapters title.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Davekat, Vampire AU

You cannot be _lieve_ your clown did this again. You might actually kill him this time.

“Gamzee, where the fuck are you?” you yell, pacing anxiously at the edge of the forest Gamzee stupidly stumbled into. You want to enter, but you’ve heard too many stories of kids like you disappearing in here, especially now, on this night…

You really, really hate Halloween. You hate dressing up, you hate being scared, you hate ghosts, candy (that shit is disgustingly sweet and rots your teeth, ugh), fake blood, spiders, vampires. Unfortunately, though, you care about Gamzee a lot more than you hate Halloween, and with a deep breath, you put one foot in front of the other and enter.

 _Snap_.

You jump about ten feet into the air and land gracefully on your ass. _It was probably a forest critter_ , you tell yourself, repeating that thought in your head like a mantra as you dust off your black cat costume and step deeper into the forest. Why, fucking _why_ , did Gamzee choose Halloween of all days to go hiking in your town’s creepy-ass, most likely haunted collection of fat, ancient trees and spiky shrub?

“Gamzee?” you call again, voice catching in your throat and a lot more hushed. You think you might have seen a figure in the darkness. Your throat feels dry, and your hands are clammy. “Gamzee, stop fucking around,” you continue, nervously watching the trees surrounding the path.

That’s a stupid idea. Without your eyes following the trail, you trip on a rock and fall flat on your face.

“Need a hand there, kitty cat?” someone asks, a southern drawl not native to your state evident in his voice, and if you scream, jump to your feet and promptly fall back on your ass, at least none of your friends are there to see.

“And who the fuck do you think you are?” you yell at the boy who rudely scared the living shit out of you. Admittedly, it’s probably not his fault, but you’re on edge and ready to blame anyone and everyone for it.

“Dave Strider, the one and only,” he replies, bowing, his blonde hair falling forward over his shades. Who wears shades at near midnight? This douche, apparently. You roll your eyes, slowly pushing yourself back to your feet. He offers you a hand and you take it, yelping when he pulls you up too quickly. You stumble forward into his arms and he tucks you against him, holding your head against his shoulder. “And what’s your name, kitten?”

“K- Karkat,” you stutter, because wow, this is a first for you, you’ve never been hit on by anyone mildly attractive, let alone held by them. Screw Gamzee, you couldn’t care less if he was currently being devoured by wolves or something; Dave is looking at your face as if you’re the most attractive thing he’s ever come across.

“Cute name for a cute face,” he remarks. Your face flushes and you look down at his knight costume instead of his pale, lightly freckled face. You realize that normally you’d be pushing him away, yelling at him to leave you alone, but you don’t want to. You like it here. He’s not warm, no, to be very honest he’s frighteningly cold, but you don't mind, in spite of the autumn wind biting you even through the three layers of clothes you're wearing, undershirt, t-shirt and turtleneck.

You're not sure what's exactly happening right now, trapped against this deceptively attractive boy, his eyes strangely hidden behind his dumb aviators, and you're set to push Dave away, because it's frightening how easy and calm you are around him, a total stranger, when you have panic attacks about meeting your closest friends but.

But then.

His lips are moving, moving _against_ yours. When did you start kissing. Why aren't you screaming and running yet.

His kiss is cold, like the rest of him, but it's intoxicating, the way his tongue flicks inside your mouth is intoxicating, the way he starts to move down, nibbling lightly at your jaw, kissing against your neck, one hand tight around your waist, the other pressing against your shoulder, both pushing hard enough to bruise, like you're as intoxicating to him as he is to you, like he can't get enough of you.

His lips linger against your pulse longer than they lingered at your lips, licking and sucking and kissing. You feel a small sting, but it's gone again in seconds and you're pretty sure you imagined it, your hands clutching desperately at his chest.

"Dave?" you breathe, and he growls against your neck, possessive and angry, and it sends shivers down your-

"Karbro?"

That's Gamzee's voice, far away enough that you're pretty sure he can't see you. Dave stops whatever it was he was doing to your neck and you whine in contempt.

Dave sets you down against a tree, kneeling in front of you for a second. He leans in and you think he's going to kiss you again, but all he does is whisper directly in your ear, "there's bad people in these forests. You gotta be more careful."

He vanishes then, and for a second you think you imagined the whole affair.

Except Gamzee's looking at you strangely, like whatever happened to you could possibly be weirder than his bright, colorful and slightly demonic clown outfit, and then you notice something warm and sticky drying on your neck.

 


	2. Jadefef, Siren!Feferi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh yeah, forgot to mention in the last chapter, leave a prompt in the comments if you want to see more of something, or if you have anything you want me to write
> 
> Also, please, if you notice anything wrong with any characters, call me out on it.

Your name is Jade Harley, and you're going on an adventure! Before your Grandpa died, he'd warned you about the far side of the island, but you turned 18 last week and you're ready to take whatever challenge comes your way!

The hike to the opposite side of the island isn't difficult at all, and you're slightly peeved that it was such a short hike because you packed your sleeping bag and tent and _everything_. Well then. You dart down to the cove to set up camp there instead, because you climbed all the way here, you’re not going to leave any time soon!

It starts to grow dark just as soon as you've finished sorting everything inside your tent, so the only possible course of action is to start a campfire. You gather up materials in the dim light of your headlamp (sure it makes you look dorky, but it's practical!), and a collection of large sticks, small twigs and dry leaves later you're sitting down by your tent, trying to get your stupid matches to light.

You're still striking matches when you hear it, a soft, lilting tune, clear even over the crash of waves at high tide. You pick yourself up, walking towards the source of the noise like there's a string pulling you towards it, this gentle, light hum, not quite singing but still so beautiful, so exotic, even for you, the Indian girl brought up with American values on an empty island in the middle of the Pacific.

You force yourself to stop walking, even though something is screaming at you to _keep going, you're almost there_.

Animals don't hum.

When your gun is in your hand and loaded, you continue walking, keeping the nozzle up, crouching low, carefully examining the beach for any traces of life. You pass a few crabs, travelling in the same direction as you, seemingly drawn to the same tune as you are.

The humming is louder now, and you know you're almost there. You carry on stalking slowly, letting one of the crabs scuttle on ahead of you over a small hill of sand. You hear it splash into water, and then the humming stops.

There's a loud crunch that could only be the eating of the poor innocent crab and you take a moment to lament the passing of that brave little soldier. Then the humming starts again.

You can't help it, your body is moving without listening to you, dragging you over the hill and down into the small lagoon beyond it.

The humming stops again and you regain enough control of your limbs to paddle awkwardly to shore, clinging on a nearby rock without really crawling out, and look up at the thing that was humming.

Shit.

"Hi there!" it says, grinning at you with a mouth full of shark teeth, still blue from the crab they munched into. It's got long, black hair that's curly with sea salt that drapes over its back and shoulders, resting over just where its nipples would be. Its really cute and chubby and curvy, with large breasts and wide hips that fade from soft looking grey skin into a rough, fish-scaled pink tail.

"Uh," you reply dumbly.

It grins at you.

"Wow, I reel-y thought my first meeting with a human would be more inter-ray-sting than this!" it giggles, rolling its eyes, white sclera with white irises and a very pale pink border.

"What are you?" you manage to splutter out, swallowing your fear.

"A siren," it replies.

"Oh."

It nods. "I'm Feferi, heiress of the oceans," it- she, heiress means it's a girl, right?- says.

"I'm Jade. This is my island."

"Psh, you wish," Feferi replies, rolling her eyes. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" you bark, because this island is yours, or Grandpas, but no one knows he's dead and you're pretty sure if they knew then the island would be yours.

"My family own all the islands of the oceans," she replies, flipping her hair over her shoulder. You clamber out of the water and sit firmly next to her on the rock.

“I think you’re mistaken, because this is definitely my island." You don't care what she thinks. You grew up here and she's trespassing. You tell her so. She sticks her tongue out you.

You've never been a rational person, so you lean forward and bite it.

A few hours later, you leave the lagoon well-fucked, a promise to return ringing in your head almost as much as the feeling of Feferi's tongue still tingles inside you.


	3. Johnkat, demon!Karkat and angel!John

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ildiko_Kumari requested johnkat with demons and well. im a sucker for incubus karkat.

You were walking alone, at night, in a darkened alley, minding your own business and looking for someone to fuck, because hey, you’re an incubus, what the fuck else are you going to do, when some asshole with buck teeth and glasses decided that today was a fine day to _smash you against a wall_. 

“What the fuck!” you manage to yelp as the concrete of the building next to you get’s up and personal with your face. 

“Hm,” he replies. “She said you were dangerous.” He sounds weirdly bored. 

“Who, what, who fucking said I was dangerous?” you manage to stutter, because only one person knows you’re a demon, and Jade could kick your ass to the furthest reaches of Tartarus herself if she wanted to. 

“Jade,” he says, like she’s the best person in the world and couldn’t actually rip his arms out for sport. 

“And she sent you after me?” you ask, squirming against the wall because you want to see this asshole’s face. 

“Well, kinda,” he relents after a short pause. “She said to find you, and that’s kind of what I’m good at!”

You freeze. Jesus fucking christ, if she’s looking for you, you either must’ve fucked up big time, or someone else did and you’re paying for it. 

Fucking Jade Harley was the worst mistake you’ve ever made. 

Dating Jade Harley was only slightly worse because then she treated you nicely. Ish. Not really, but she fucked you nicely. 

Breaking up with Jade, though, was one of the best decisions you’d ever made, because you were never made for putting up with strong, demanding females. 

“Why?” you manage to ask, not even trying to escape at this point. 

“Apparently she wants to say sorry!” he replies, grinning. 

“And she asked you to throw me against a wall by my neck?” you growl. You really hope this guy is as much of an idiot as he sounds like. 

“Oh… I don’t really understand why she told me to do that, to be completely honest,” he remarks. You can feel him shrug by the way his hand shifts against your neck. She didn’t want you to seduce him. Of course. 

“Who the fuck broke her heart this time?” you hiss, pushing away at the wall with renewed strength. 

“Huh? Oh, well, her last boyfriend broke up with her last week, and he found a new girlfriend this week, and… wait, is this about him?”

You bang your head against the wall a few times. 

“Are you ok?” he asks, letting go of you. You turn around to see his face…

And of course he’s a fucking angel, why. 

“No, I’m not ok. Hi, I’m Jade’s punching bag, Karkat,” you growl, because you think maybe. Maybe he’ll take pity on you, right? Angels know what’s wrong and what’s right and if he doesn’t know you’re a demon…

“I’m John!” he giggles. “Are you a demon? That’s so cool, I’ve never met a demon before! And how come you’re Jade’s punching bag? What does that mean? Is she doing that thing where she’s mean and-“

“Holy shit, you talk more than me, I thought that was impossible,” you remark, slapping your hand over his adorably plush mouth. You wonder how he’d look spread out on your sheets, those lips spread open in a small ‘o,’ moaning your name- and you quickly shut that part of your brain up before it takes over. “How do you know I’m a- never mind, right, I can tell you’re an angel, of course you can tell I’m a demon.”

“Hehe, yeah! So how come you’re Jade’s punching bag? Because that doesn’t seem right…”

“She thinks that because I’m a demon, it’s ok,” you reply, glancing off to the side. Maybe he’ll help you, maybe he won’t, at this point you don’t really care. 

“Oh, that sucks.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I’m going to tell her I couldn’t find you then! Bye Karkat!” 

He turns around and his wings appear out of nowhere, it seems, white with blue feathers the same color as his eyes, sapphire blue, so fucking deep and beautiful and he takes off before you remember how to think again. 

“Wait!” you yell, running after him, shifting into demon form so you can run a little faster. He lands in front of you and barrel into his chest, toppling both of you, his wings curling around you to soften the fall.

“Shit, sorry,” you mumble, getting your hands underneath you so you can take some of your weight off of him. 

“What’s up?” he asks, as if you aren’t in one of the most compromising positions ever, your legs on either side of his, your hands beside his head, lips bare inches from his. His wings are still wrapped loosely around you, and your tail flicks up to keep them there. 

“Why are you helping me?” you ask, because fuck it, you might as well ask now, right?

“Because Jade might be my friend but she’s stupidly judgmental, and thinks that anyone slightly demonic is evil.”

“Oh.”

“A demon killed her grandpa by accident once.”

“ _Oh._ ”

He nods. 

“So, um, are you going to let me get up?” you ask. 

He grins at you slyly. “Nah. It’s comfortable here.”

Your tiny useless wings flutter once. 

“My bed’s more comfortable,” you snark, hoping he’ll take the bait. 

“Mine’s better,” he replies, and then his wings snap tight against your back and you’re kissing. 

You’re just glad you didn’t have to seduce him, you think, as your tail flicks in anticipation and his hands linger on your hips. 

 


	4. VrisJohn, Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is shitty, i nearly forgot todays update

“Bleh, why did you think this was a good idea?” he asks, brushing a cobweb out of his hair. “Let’s go trample on this pirate ship wreck, it’s a great idea!” 

You punch him in the arm. He pouts at you in return. 

“Look, if we find something really cool and ancient, we could become _rich_ ,” you tell him, flicking your hair out of your face. Cobwebs don’t bother you; you’ve had multiple pet spiders, and they never, _ever_ stayed in their enclosures. 

John huffs and keeps searching. “This wreck has been here forever. I’m pretty sure if anything valuable _was_ here, actual archeologists would’ve found it already,” he mutters. You get a nice glimpse of his ass when he bends down to yank open a musty old chest. John Egbert is a lot of things; oblivious, stupid and childish all come to mind. But if there’s one good thing about having him around, it’s that he’s one hunk of a man. Big tanned forearms, cute butt, face that lands somewhere in between ridiculously adorable and really fucking hot. 

You give his ass a good pinch when you walk past him into the next room. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” something says, but the voice and accent are off, really old actually. 

“Hey, John, did you hear that?” you ask. John walks in behind you. 

“Nope, what happened? Jeez, why’s it so cold in here?” 

The door behind you slams shut and John jumps straight into your arms, crashing both of you onto the floor. 

Of course, this is a very old shipwreck, and the wood is very old too. 

You don’t even get a warning before you’re falling through, floorboards cracking and sending you and John straight down onto the sand. 

You stand up, spluttering and spitting sand out of your mouth. 

“Mind giving me a hand?” John asks, groaning as he tries to stand up. “You’re not exactly light, you know.”

You walk past him, to explore a little, and he flips you off, flopping back down on the sand. 

“I’ll just stay here, then, and wait until you find an exit,” he yells after you, but you ignore him, examining the wood patterns, so you can figure out which end of the ship you’re stuck at. There’s a door into the ship on the other end, someone’s long forgotten attempt to make the ship into a playground or something, but it never got past that. You’ve always wondered why. 

“Leave,” someone says. It’s the same voice from before. You pretend not to freak out and start to walk back towards John when he screams. 

John, however childish he might be, is not one to scream lightly. Like you, it’s punch first, scream later, so if he’s screaming then it’s nothing good. You’re running, breath coming fast as you sprint back towards where he should be.

He’s not there.

“Shit, shit, _shit,_ John, you absolute _imbecile_ , where the fuck are you?”

“Vriska!” you hear him shout, but he’s somewhere upstairs. How did he get there? He can’t fly, as far as you know.

“John, I’m coming, just… wait, ok? Don’t die on me yet,” you yell back, trying to figure out how he got up there.

“You shouldn’t be here, _child_ ,” that same _fucking_ voice sneers, and it’s right behind you. You aim a neat roundhouse kick at where this dude’s crotch should be, but instead of hurting him, your foot just feels as if it passed through the world’s smallest snowstorm. 

What.

You face the snowstorm, and hey, turns out it’s not a snowstorm but _a fucking ghost_. You tell yourself to calm down, taking deep breaths.

“Don’t call me child, old man,” you reply. 

“Did no one ever teach you to respect your elders?” he snarls at you. You take a minute to examine his outfit. He’s wearing baggy pants, with flintlock pistols tucked into the belt. It’s topped by a silk shirt and a scrappy old vest, and a bandana wrapped neatly around his bald head. He’s old, his face wrinkled from age and salt water. 

“No. My mom taught me to steal from them instead,” you reply simply, shrugging. “Old broken originals are worth a lot more than new working fakes, she used to say.”

He frowns. “You don’t seem scared.”

“Rule number two, never let anyone know when you’re scared.”

He nods in some form of grudging respect. “So are you scared then, girl?”

You shrug. “Depends. Can you touch me?”

He hisses. 

“Cool, so how do I leave, and where is my boyfriend?” you ask.

He pouts and points at a ladder. You nod and leave. That wasn’t so bad.

“My boyfriend?” you remember, halfway up the ladder. The old ghost is still standing in the middle of the room. 

“My compatriot’s carried him upstairs. We were hoping to scare you off, but he seemed hurt.”

You pause. “Why scare us?”

“This is our home. We can’t have people try and take it from us,” he growls, huffing. “We used to be the terror of the seas, and now we’ve been reduced to mild pranks to keep our home.”

“Hm,” you hum. You climb back down. “So you’re the captain, I assume?”

He nods. 

“I’ve got a deal that’ll keep you your ship, make you seem terrifying, and earn me a whole lotta cash!”

He gives you a curious look and shrugs. “I’ll hear you out then.”

A few weeks later, you buy the ship with all the money you have and make a killing in the haunted house market. The most popular comments, “the holographic ghosts were so cool, I could’ve sworn they were real!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaaand my headcanon forever is that vriska is more ready to make money out of something than dave and terezi combined.


	5. JohnRoxy, Zombie Apocalypse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> darkartsfart asked for the last fic, this fic and the next one, so thanks!

Of course, it had to start on Halloween, and it had to be exactly when you'd finally convinced Roxy to kiss you, because that's the only appropriate time for your life to fall apart.

You didn’t even expect it, eyes closed and lips waiting to be touched by hers, when she started screaming, grabbed your arm and yanked you out of the window. Very romantic, and you still haven’t kissed.

She’s huddled in front of you, the two of you camping out inside a maintenance closet, trapped inside a mall because you’d been running for days and you thought you finally found somewhere with food and water, and split up for a second to just wash up, when Roxy came in, shotgun blasting heads off the few female zombies that stumbled out of the bathroom behind her. You smashed your sledgehammer into the heads of a few others and the two of you started running before something heard you and followed.

“Well, this is fun,” you remark, avoiding her eyes, that bright shiny pink that you didn’t think was possible, but then again, nothing about Roxy has ever seemed real to you.

“Kinda like we’re playing seven minutes in heaven,” she sighs, slumping against the wall of the closet and narrowly missing knocking over a broom. One of the zombies outside drags his hand lazily down the door, smashing a few times before losing interest and leaving.

“Yeah, seven minutes in heaven, except none of us wants to be here, and we locked ourselves in instead of the other way round,” you reply, glancing at the small slit of light shining through the door. Roxy taps the bottom of your chin and you look up at her in surprise.

“You really don’t want to be here?” she asks, a cheeky little grin missing her eyes, but clear on her face. “Because you didn’t seem to mind on Halloween.”

“Uh, I thought,” you stutter, blushing hard. “You were drunk, how did, uh, what?”

She kisses your cheek. “For once, I was actually sober,” she tells you, and your face goes redder, even though you didn’t think it was possible.

“Oh,” you manage to choke out. She smiles sweetly at you.

“So, I’m guessing we’re going to die in here,” she adds.

“Oh yeah,” you confirm, nodding. And then she’s kissing you, climbing onto your lap, her legs wrapped around your waist. You kiss her back, your fingers dragging up under her shirt. She’s shivering from some combination of the cold and hormones, and her touch tingles wherever it lands. You moan into her mouth when she slides her tongue into your mouth, and she whimpers back when you pull back to suck on her bottom lip.

“All our friends are dead, and we’re making out in the middle of a zombie apocalypse,” you comment, and she nods.

“I’ve been trying to forget about the dead friends and apocalypse thing, you know,” she tells you and you shrug.

The zombie from before returns, slamming against the door with extra enthusiasm. You and Roxy exchange a glance. You’ve both got nothing left to live for. The world’s ending around you, and you’re both fucking exhausted and sick of running, so.

She slips your shirt off as you unclapse her bra. Soon, both your pants are gone, and she’s panting in your ear, rutting lightly against your leg.

“Yo, John, want to hurry up and get inside me? I don’t think those guys outside are going to wait any longer,” she hisses. You huff.

“Never done this before, ok,” you reply, blushing and turning away. Roxy starts fucking laughing.

“Oh my god, this is possibly the best way to die,” she tells you. “Stealing a cute boy’s virginity. Fuck yes.”

You don’t use protection, and Roxy doesn’t ask you to. She slides herself down on you as more zombies gather outside, and a combination of adrenalin and testosterone means you’re on top of her soon enough, rocking her against the wall of the closet, her teeth buried in your shoulder. She comes screaming just seconds before you, and you follow, and then the door breaks down. You cling onto her as they try to separate you, and she gets her gun under your chin the same time you get your pistol pointed between her eyes.

“See you on the other side, Roxy,” you tell her, grinning.

“Can’t wait,” she replies.

And then you blow each others brains out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> after the rest of the things were slightly happy, i had to break the streak.


	6. DirkJake, Frankenstein's Monster

Jake finishes stitching the head onto the body. “Are you sure this is going to work?”

“Shut up,” you reply, desperately trying to get the foot to stay in place. “It’ll work, ok, there’s a big thunderstorm tonight, we just need to finish before then.”

The foot finally sticks on to the rest of the leg and you get up, brushing your jeans off. You check on your cables, attached to various parts of your franken-monsters body. This was a fuckawful dare, but if this works, Dave owes you a year of doing all the chores and he has to cook. And obey your every command. You know Jade promised Jake something of the same thing, which is why he volunteered to help.

“Are you done?” you ask, and Jake nods, sucking one of his fingers. You pull a bandage out of your pocket and he hands you his finger. You dry it on your shirt and stick the band-aid on, before pressing a soft kiss against his finger. His face flushes and he yanks his hand back.

You’re glad you got back together. After you spoke to Dave about breaking up with him, he’d described how abusive and manipulative you’d been. It hurt, a lot, and you’d spent weeks avoiding Jake, before you realized that he probably thought it was his fault, and you’d approached him and apologized. He’d accepted your apology, and the two of you had rebuilt your friendship slowly, getting to know each other in an entirely new way. And then he kissed you.

He’s kissing you now, holding you against the large wooden table your corpse is lying on. His hands slide up your shirt, fingers smoothing over your abs, but then thunder crashes outside and you pull away. You grab a pair of safety goggles and throw them over to him. You don’t need them, because your shades are quite heavy duty (they have to be, with all the welding you do).

Jake takes your hand and sits on the floor, pulling you down next to him. He rests his head on your shoulder.

“So if this doesn’t work,” he says, but it’s more like a question.

“I have to be Dave’s bitch for a week, and I’m quoting here,” you tell him. He nods.

“Jade said the same,” he replies, huffing. “So long as she doesn’t make me dress like a furry again…”

You both shudder at the same time.

“If Dave makes me wear a french maid outfit, you’ll come to my rescue, right?”

He kisses you. “I’m not too sure, actually. Depends on how good you look in it.”

You punch him lightly in the shoulder and he snorts, grabbing your arm and wrapping it around his shoulders.

The rain outside beats against your window like it’s trying to break in. Lightning flashes around you, not close enough to hit anything it should, but it’s getting closer.

“It’s not going to-” Jake starts, getting up. You yank him down as lightning hits, flashing down the long metal pole you’d stuck through the roof and spreading across your corpse’s many limbs.

Nothing happens.

You get up and Jake follows, his hand grabbing yours.

You stand over the corpse.

“Did it?” Jake whispers. You shrug.

“I don’t think so,” you reply, poking the crudely sewn together body in the thigh.

It groans. Jake screams and clings on to you.

It’s eyes open, one red, one blue, glaring angrily at you.

“Jethuth fuck,” it says.

“Uh, hi,” you say.

“What the fuck, did you do, jethuth fuck, no,” it says, sitting up and glaring down at its body. “Get the fuck out of my head you fucking- It’s not your head, a course, it might be, I’m far more attrac- Thut up, ED, you’re the reathon we both died, you- you were takin her from me! That’th a good thing! You-”

“Uh,” Jake says. The thing turns towards you.

“Who the fuck are you? Are you the ass who turned us into this?” it asks, snarling.

“Hey, you’re fucking welcome, for one,” you snark back.

“We didn’t want to be brought back,” it replies, flipping you off. You roll your eyes.

“If you want to die again, fine, but we need a video. Our manhood rests on this,” you state simply.

“Fuck your “manhood,” you can kindly fuck off to hell,” it tells you.

“Thank you, but we’ll join you down there later,” you reply. It looks like it’s tempted to claw your face off. Jake grins from behind his phone.

“Ok, that’s enough, we’re just going to re-kill you now!”

You pull the plug, literally. The lightning trick was just enough to boost it’s life, but a small generator you’d designed and created was what was keeping it alive. And, sure, maybe half of its insides were robotic as well. Big fucking deal.

Jake types away at his phone, grinning like an idiot.

“That was so cool!” he’s yelling while he’s typing. “We brought someone back from the dead!”

“Two someone’s, actually,” you comment, but you’re smirking too. Dave is going to make a great footrest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 things:  
> I apologize for Erisol, I've never written him before, and Dirk /isn't/ abusive to Dave, because he lost a bet to Dave before and had to be his footstool for a week. He was fairly sure his back broke at one point. It was awful.


	7. Davekat, Skeletons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> short and sweet, please leave some suggestions or prompts in the comments!!

You’re not sure what to expect when you walk into your apartment to hear Panic! at the Disco’s cover of This is Halloween softly playing. You step forward cautiously and barely stifle a scream when a skeleton fucking falls in front of your face. You glance up.

The entire fucking ceiling is covered with skeletons, and the entire fucking floor is covered in triggers and tripwires attached to the skeletons. John was obviously busy while you and Dave got wasted at Jade’s Halloween party. Or at least, you got wasted. Dave’s still parking his bike. You slump outside the door and wait for him.

“Aight, I can see you got the door open, so I’m gonna assume that skeleton was John’s idea.”

You nod. “We should prank him back. He didn’t notice me screaming, so he probably fell asleep.”

Dave grins. “Where are the rest of them?”

You point at the ceiling. He hefts you up on his shoulders and the two of you begin painstakingly taking down all the skeletons, silent as fucking ninjas. Ironic, since the two of you are dressed as them. Dave is the master of non-embarrassing couples outfits. He knows you so well.

He lets you down and glances at the pile of skeletons. “So, what do you wanna do with these?”

“Give him a taste of his own medicine?” you reply. Dave’s grin grows larger and you kiss his cheek before flipping up your mask. His mask goes up as well. The two of you gather as many skeletons in your arms as possible and you creep into John’s room.

He’s sleeping soundly, snoring lightly as the track playing from his laptop switches into “What’s this?” by Fall Out Boy. You gently place the skeletons at the foot of his bed. Dave does the same.

One skeleton is tucked under his blanket, it’s arm wrapped sweetly around him. Another finds its way onto his desk chair, lying across his desk as if it passed out there. One more leans against his nightstand, watching him sleep, it’s empty soulless eyes inches from John’s closed ones. Soon the room is filled with skeletons all either watching John, or sleeping peacefully. You shut the music off and leave, Dave following you into your shared bedroom after he carefully sets up a camera above John’s door, perfectly capturing everything in the room.

You wake up to John screaming, and Dave offers you a fistbump.

You take it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> seriously leave prompts im running out of ideas. literally anything will go as long as its slightly spooky or halloween related


	8. Davekat, Nepeta, Gamkat, Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> heres a long one to make up for the short one

“Karkat, Karkat, Karkat, Karkat!”

“Nepeta, shut up,” you stupid brother groans, pulling his pillow over his head.

“No,” you reply simply, sitting on top of him. He turns around and glares at you, bedhead hair falling into his eyes.

“Please?” he asks, and he does that thing where he crosses puppy dog eyes with an ‘I will kill you’ type glare, and how are you supposed to refuse such adorableness.

“...Fine,” you huff, clambering off of him. He turns back around, tugging his sheets over his head.

“Dave’s coming ofur in an hour,” you comment as you waltz out of his room. He stiffens, his sheets are thrown off and he’s running through you to the bathroom.

Sometimes you hate that your brother forgets you’re dead. Most of the time it’s ok, but when he tries to hug you, or push past you, he’ll go right through you and you’ll get this weird feeling of not existing, just where he passes through you. It passes pretty quickly, but it’s irritating to say the least.

And then when his friends come over, and he has to pretend he can’t see dead people. He’ll ignore you, and he’ll even ignore Gamzee, and even though you hate Gamzee, you can relate to the way it hurts when he purposely avoids looking at you. Karkat always apologizes for it afterwards, but it still hurts.

He comes out of the bathroom after about fifteen minutes of fussing, showering, fussing some more, and then he’s racing back across the hallway into his room, throwing out various outfits to try on. You float into his room, resting against his doorframe.

“Wear the red plaid shirt, he likes that one,” you comment. “And black skinny jeans.”

“Uh, thanks, but, I mean, they’re both so tight-”

“Exactly!”

He flushes and glares at you. “Are you sure? I mean, he liked that time I wore that sweater and-”

“It’s summer, Karcat!”

“So what?”

You facepalm and Karkat huffs, pulling on the black skinny jeans you told him to wear.

“I don’t want to wear that shirt though.”

You glare at him. He glares back. You’re dead, you don’t have to blink if you don’t want to, so your eyes stay open even after he blinks. “I win!”

“That’s not fair,” he grumbles, but he shrugs on the shirt and starts buttoning it up. You pick up a hairbrush (small objects without life aren’t too difficult to mess with) and start combing his hair. He glances up at you. He never says thank you, but you’re fairly sure he’ll let you watch his date, and maybe even chat to you when Dave leaves for bathroom breaks or whatever. “Do you think he actually likes me, though?” he sighs, playing with the hem of his shirt.

You knock him in the head with the hairbrush. “Have you seen the way he looks at you? He’s totally infurtuated.”

“That was bad.”

You nod. “Make sure I nefur use it again.”

You finish attempting to tame his curls and you go downstairs together, your hand flashing through his. It’s the closest you can get to holding his hand again, and both of you know it. It hurts when he starts crying because you can’t hug him like you did. But this small bit of comfort is enough.

He pulls out a pack of Pop-tarts and some cat food. After you died, Pounce grew quite depressed, but Karkat still keeps her around, and he’s taken to adopting even more cats, just to keep you company. You’re pretty sure they can see you, but it takes them a little bit longer than before to grow to trust you.

“He said we’d go out for a movie,” he tells you, opening the Pop-tarts and throwing them on a plate, and then into the microwave.

“What movie?” you ask, as he pours cat food into three separate bowls and water into a large dish. Your cats peek over from the living room.

“I don’t know, he said I could choose when I got there… You said there was that new one you wanted to see? Uh, Inside Out? We could see that, if you want.” You want to hug him, because of course your big brother would choose the movie for his first ever date after Gamzee died according to your preferences.

You nod eagerly. He smiles at you, pulling his breakfast out of the microwave and grabbing some apple juice out of the fridge. You walk through the table and his food, because he always tries to eat it when it’s too hot, and well, you’re significantly colder than the rest of the room, so you can make it a temperature he can manage.

Your brother is a pussy, and that’s saying something, coming from you.

Dave comes over soon after he finishes eating. Karkat gives you an apologetic look but you shrug, following behind his shoulder as he rushes to the door.

“Hey babe,” Dave says, leaning down to peck Karkat’s lips. Karkat kisses him back, because he’s a sap for small vanilla things like that.

Gamzee’s standing behind him, oh no. “Hey Gamzee!” you call, waving him inside. Gamzee strolls through Dave and Karkat, and Karkat looks away from Dave for just a second, regret appearing in his eyes.

“Don’t cry for me brother, I’m happy you moved on,” Gamzee says, a fake smile plastered on his face. Karkat nods imperceptibly, and Dave doesn’t seem to have noticed anything. He offers his arm to your idiot brother, and the two of them go out to your car.

You give Gamzee a stern glare.

“I know you’re not ok with this-” you start. Gamzee shakes his head and starts crying.

“I’m ok with it, ok, I’m happy for him, it’s just- It’s my fault he all up and couldn’t do nothing for nothing for months and now it’s over and he’s ok, and I’m happy for him, but I never could’ve done nothing like that for him and-”

You hug him. You knew he cared about Karkat a lot, he just wasn’t ever the best at showing it. And when… and when he overdosed, because his dad had said something, or done something, and Gamzee had hiccupped an apology to Karkat through the vomit…

Karkat couldn’t take it and nearly killed himself. You’re lucky you were there to stop it. You’re lucky you could operate a phone and call someone, and you’re lucky that someone was Dave.

Gamzee found out and when he saw you glaring daggers at him over Karkat’s shoulder, and when he saw Karkat giving him a wide-eyed look, he broke down in front of him for the first time.

You’d left them and when you came back, they were smiling, not holding hands, but their thighs were touching and they weren’t crying anymore.

It was almost the same as when you died. You’d always wondered why Karkat liked to sit alone at lunch, and why it always looked like he was arguing with someone when he was all alone. Then you’d died, car accident, Equius was driving you back home from school when some drugged out angry man, who looked a lot like Gamzee, swerved into your lane. Equius tried to avoid crashing, but your car spun out of control and crashed into a building. You died on impact. Equius was alive for a couple days after you, but soon he died too, not becoming a ghost, because unlike you and Gamzee, the only thing he lived for, you, sweetly, was already dead.

But anyways, the man was Gamzee’s dad.

Gamzee died a few months later when Karkat told him his dad was the one that killed you. You don’t doubt that it was all connected.

“He’s better now,” you say, and Gamzee looks up at you with the faintest glimmer of hope in his dead eyes.

“Yeah?” he asks, cuddling closer to you. You don’t mind. He smells nice.

“Yep,” you reply. “He’s purrfect, and it’s because of us.”

Gamzee comes to the movie with you, and he’s cheering next to you when Karkat throws Dave onto his bed that night. Neither of you watch, instead choosing to go downstairs and turn on the TV. If Dave freaks about it, maybe Karkat’ll tell him. Maybe he won’t. You don’t know, and frankly you don’t care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JFC this was too long and i want to make it longer ;-;
> 
> i might even make it into its own fic...


	9. Davekat, Halloween party on the meteor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yeah, i rushed this, was out all day

“Yo Karks,” you say, punching your best bro in the shoulder. He turns around to swipe at you, but instead screams his head off and flops onto the floor.

“What the _fuck_ are you wearing?” he yells, his face pale.

You glance down at your sexy devil costume, a short red dress that brings out your total lack of thighs, equipped with fishnets, a short pointed tail and a pair of small useless plastic devil horns digging into the soft flesh behind your ears. You even borrowed Rose’s red lipstick for full effect.

“Oh please, Karkles, I look great,” you say, planting one hand on your non-existent hips and flipping your short bangs out of your eyes. Karkat buries his head in his hands. For someone who embarasses themself constantly, he sure is easily susceptible to second-hand embarrassment.

“ _Why_ ,” he asks, although it sounds like he’s given in to fate and he knows he’s going to die soon.

“Because it’s Halloween!” you yell. He winces.

“The fuck is a “hell-of-ween”?” he asks, even making the finger quotes. He’s so precious.

“Halloween. It’s a human celebration where everyone over 13 wears skimpy outfits that’re supposed to represent actual spooky shit. And if you’re not an adult you can go trick-or-treating, too.”

“That sounds ridiculously dangerous.”

“Sh, Karkat, remember, not everyone on Earth was a homicidal maniac.”

He glances up at you. “Ok, so why are you trying to bring this here?”

“Halloween party,” you tell him, pulling out an outfit from behind your back. “For you, from me.”

He takes the costume and unfolds it delicately, like he thinks it’s going to poison him or something. His face darkens. You knew he’d love it.

“There is no way in hell I am wearing this,” he growls, holding up the tight white crop top in one hand like it's going to poison. There’s a small white skirt in his lap, a pair of white thigh highs, a halo on a white hairband and a pair of small, blueish white wings.

“But Kar _kitty_ ,” you whine.

“No, fuck off, this is.”

“Rose and Kanaya are already drunk, Vriska and Terezi are wearing worse outfits, and come on! We’d match! Also I told the Mayor you were going to dress up. Don’t let the Mayor down.”

He gives you a suspicious look. “Is the mayor also dressed up?” You pull out your phone and show him a picture you took of the Mayor in a small golden crown and cape, waving a gold staff around. Karkat’s look softens.

“Fine, I’ll do it,” he growls, glaring at you. He’s not happy, but. You’re silently screaming inside. Karkat. Half naked. In a skirt. Adorable. You might squeal a tiny bit. Karkat’s too busy glaring at his outfit to notice.

“So yeah, pick you up in half an hour?” you ask. You realize that sounds too much like you’re expecting him to be your date. Well, shit.

“Uh. Yeah, I guess?” he seems confused.

“Yeah, I mean, brohonchos and all, we gotta stick together when there’s aggressive ladies around,” you ramble. Karkat’s expression clears a little. Good. You sigh internally, cursing your inability to tell cute guys you like them. Cute girls too, for that matter. Just, cute people in general. And you’re surrounded by them.

“Yeah… So, half an hour, then?”

“Yep.”

Karkat get’s up and walks off to his room. You’re a little upset you can’t watch him change.

Half an hour of restless pacing later, you’re knocking on his door. He opens the door cautiously.

“This is tiny,” he says, his expression mortified beyond compare.

“Yep,” you reply.

“Why,” he asks.

“Because you got a fine ass, Vantas.” Oh whoops, well that happened.

“Fuck off!” he yells, face flaring red. He doesn’t slam the door in your face, though.

“S’true though, you’re hella cute,” you continue. You’ve already dug your hole, might as well make it deeper.

“Shut up, I’m-” You push your hand over his mouth.

“Shush, only parties and getting drunk now.”

He nods, stepping out from behind the door. Oh hot damn. Maybe wearing a tight dress was a bad idea.

His thighs look incredible. You could write endless raps about how fine his thighs are. And his fucking collarbones. They are just made to be covered in small lil hickeys. Oh jeeze. This was a bad idea.

He removes your hand from his mouth and turns his head slightly. “Dave? Are you?”

“I’m fine, yeah, just, damn, Kitkat, you never told me you could pull off a skirt that well.”

“It never came up?”

“Oh, well, yeah. Wait. You knew?”

“Uh, Kanaya got me to. Uhm, long story,” he mumbles.

You wonder if you have the same effect on him as he does on you. Meaning, talking suddenly becomes really difficult and all you wanna do is bury your head in a pillow and avoid the world forever.

You walk to the party together. Maybe your knuckles brush against his a few times. Maybe he catches your pinky with his. Maybe he catches your eye and you see his cheeks are as red as yours.

And hey, if you walk into the party to find the girls all sugar high and half-dressed and screaming when they see Karkat’s small calloused hand tucked into your large one, fuck it. They’re drunk. They, hopefully, won’t remember.

But you and Karkat?

You definitely will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if someone draws them in these outfits, i might actually scream


	10. Karkat & Jade, Hauntings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry for not updating, i ran out of steam.. ull get more than one fic per day as soon as i get back into it

Nope, nope, nope, nope, nope. You are fucking done with ghosts. No more ghosts. No more spooky haunts and shit that’ll keep you up at night.

“Fuck off,” you whimper, in the manliest way you can. The ghost girl rolls her eyes at you.

“Wow, rude,” she mutters, disappearing into thin air. You moved into this apartment because it wasn’t supposed to be haunted. There were no ghost stories surrounding the place. And then, boom, suddenly ghost. Just your fucking luck.

You try to live like it’s normal to have a ghost float around in your bedroom at night, watching you sleep. You pretend like your heart isn’t going 50 bpm when the cupboard doors open without you touching them. The ghost hasn’t tried to hurt you yet, in fact she seems to be taking care of you, but.

You don’t trust spirits. The last one left you with two stab wounds in your chest and scratches all over your body. Needless to say, you were spooked.

“Please stop fucking helping me,” you growl to the seemingly empty room when you find a cup of coffee steaming on the table, black with two teaspoons of sugar, just the way you like it.

“No,” she replies, materializing on the counter. “I’m bored, and you won’t talk to me, and I don’t like being mean for no reason.” She watches your face. You’re pretty sure you look as terrified as you feel. “Why are you scared of me?”

You watch her carefully. She’s maybe 13 at most, long dark hair, glasses, eyes that might’ve been a bright green when she was alive, but they looked kind of dull and murky now. She was wearing a yellow nightgown with a moon stitched over her chest.

“I-” you start to say. But you stop. “I just don’t like ghosts. End of story.”

“Most people aren’t that scared of friendly spirits. That’s why nobody has put any mention about me in the ads for this place!”

You shake your head, trying to control your breathing. “Bad run in with a ghost. He said he was friendly, too…”

She cocks her head. You slump down, staring at the table and trying to forget Gamzee. You never believed in ghosts before you moved out of your parents house, but there he was, sitting on your bed as if it was the most casual thing. You’d freaked out at first, of course, but after a while you’d gotten used to him. Then you became comfortable with him. And then you befriended him. Everything was great. But you have shit luck. Two months later, something in Gamzee snapped. He started getting aggressive whenever you had someone over. He tipped your bookcase on Nepeta and her boyfriend, Equius. He’d teased Terezi whenever she came over, and eventually physically harassed her, at which point you’d told him to fuck off and started researching ways to get rid of him. One night got particularly violent and he stabbed you, scratched you, tried to drown you, all while Terezi lay on the floor, half conscious. You’d moved out as soon as you’d been discharged from the hospital.

You pull yourself back into the present, realizing the ghost girl is rubbing your shoulder as you hiccup through sobs. She looks genuinely upset for your sake. “Not all ghosts are bad, though. I won’t hurt you,” she tells you. Gamzee said the same thing. You sob harder. The girl sits in your lap and solidifies against you. “I’m not going to hurt you, so stop crying.”

“F-fuck you. This is my house, I can cry my eyes out like a baby if I want to,” you whine. 

Two months later, and she’s still cool. You learn her name is Jade. She died saving her best friend. She’d double die for you if she needed to. 


End file.
